Accidental
by Good Omens
Summary: It took them two years to realize no bullet could kill her. Then another five to understand that she wouldn't be aging, and that if she did, it was a slow process. Twenty years later and three funerals in, Rose knew there was another way. She was going to find adventure again. (May take a while to update! If anyone wishes to try this idea, you're welcome to it, too. Message me.)
1. Chapter 1, In Which There is Another Way

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, I'm simply playing around with an idea that may or may not be more. We'll see.**

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It took them two years to realize that she wouldn't be dying of any violent means like a bullet through the heart or drowning. That had been accidental in their part, not so much by the man that had shot her and thrown her body in the river.

She'd been hysterical when she woke up right there, right there in the river, just barely floating. So hysterical that when she sunk down, she didn't manage to fight it. And she drowned. It was an experience she woke screaming from, on a table in the morgue, just minutes from being opened up. She still had nightmares about that.

And then it took them another five years to realize she isn't aging. By then, the other Doctor, the one she'd married and had promised her a human life, revealed to them that he'd already realized. Had figured it out years ago. And he was working on a way to help her.

He wouldn't say what, told them it didn't matter yet, that they'd find out in time. She'd figure it out in time. She was clever, he believed in her. And she would have nothing but time to figure it out, either way.

Rose Tyler was no longer allowed out in public, not after the newspaper had declared her dead those five years ago. At least not looking like Rose Tyler. Her family had been forced to have a burial. a mourning process - her husband no longer went out in public unless it was absolutely necessary and her parents could only visit her sometimes so none would find out that she was alive, that she'd died and returned to life. That she wasn't a normal human. And not one of their family, blood-tied or otherwise, wanted that to happen to her.

So the only places Rose went was Torchwood or the family estates. Of course, both were in disguise, but when she arrived, it was fine to be herself again. Those two and her own, new, apartment were the only places she could be.

It had taken a while for her and her Doctor, her John, to live together again, and it had only been with the help of Mickey. Because they'd needed to be careful, had to make sure everyone believed she was truly dead - not that that had been hard, she'd been found dead by a college student after all. But there were still people out there who believed in aliens and remembered the cybermen and their attachment to the Tyler family and it didn't hurt to be wary.

The worst part was that even in her age, she didn't look to have gotten older at all. Not like her husband. Not like Mickey. Not like her family. And especially not like her new little brother. That was the worst. Because of him, her parents could only visit perhaps once a month if they were lucky, no one could be sure that he wouldn't accidentally say something about Rose.

They had to be careful, so her little brother thought her to be dead. Didn't actually know her. Didn't know much about who she was and the little he had been told they had been even more careful about. Had needed to speak as if she was actually gone. And as a year or two passed, neither Pete or Jackie visited anymore. Only Mickey.

Unless she was at Torchwood. Because by then, she had also stopped visiting her parents, knew they couldn't bare to look at her anymore without seeing her dead. It would make things easier for them, the less they had to see her, so Rose did what she thought was best. She let them go.

Twenty years passed like this and Rose was forced to sit in the back at not just one funeral, but three. One for Mickey, and that had been so hard, so terribly hard - but it had been nothing compared to the one for her mum. The one for Jackie Tyler.

She'd barely been able to be there, had been forced to watch her little brother, the boy who was no longer a boy, speak about her, talk of their mother, tell everyone how strong she had been - and Rose had been forced to keep quiet, to not be allowed to tell everyone what a great woman she had been. She had lost the two others that had came to this world with her, the only two who knew her entirely. All of her life. They were just… Gone.

But the absolute worst one, that was hands down the one for John. John Tyler. He'd started out with the name Smith but had quickly decided to take her last name when they married, decided that he wanted to be a part of her family. All of it. Not one of them had argued so John Tyler it was. And what a magnificent man he had been, known throughout the world for his talents, for the science he thought up. He got awards for a few things but he'd downplayed his abilities quite a lot, so he would've gotten many more if he had been the him he had been born as. But he knew well what would happen should he do so, so for the sake of Rose, he kept quiet. At least enough to not get too noticed, not enough to get bored.

The death of the cloned Doctor, the human Doctor, had not been a surprise. Not at all. It had come slowly, oh so slowly, but three years earlier, seventeen years since they'd noticed she hadn't been aging, they had noticed that something had been wrong, he'd seemed ill. While he'd waved off the possibility completely, because of who he was and where he came from, Rose wouldn't have it. She forced him to go to the hospital and have a check up and that was when they found out that he had cancer, that he was dying and that there was nothing they could do about it.

The human Doctor had refused to believe it at first, had told them there was simply no way, but after a year of denial, a wasted year, he was forced to concede. That was when he told Rose about it. About how there was another way.


	2. Chapter 2, In Which There is Loss

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, I'm simply playing around with an idea that may or may not be more. We'll see.**

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There really was another way. The first time he'd told her, she hadn't really believed it. Not truly. It had been completely confusing and he'd had to tell her exactly what he meant twice more for her to realize that it was happening, that there was another way. That she could once more live freely with people she cared about. That she could have adventure again. However, she was also on the fence about the idea because even though it gave her everything she'd ever wanted but didn't already have, it also meant leaving.

It meant leaving her husband, her family - whatever was left of it, and it meant leaving him there. She couldn't do that, not now, not like this. Not when he was dying like this. She wouldn't do that to him because no matter how much she wanted it, she also loved him. Loved him like she loved the original, yet both more and less in ways she couldn't explain. She simply knew she wasn't leaving him and he knew he couldn't persuade her otherwise.

So they made a deal. They decided that she could wait to go. She didn't have to go immediately, she could wait with him for as long as she wanted. If she promised him to be happy even after he was gone, if she promised him that she'd do everything in her power to once more be happy. Live happily, freely. If she promised this, he wouldn't fight her decision to stay with him until his end. In truth, he was relieved by it, relieved because it meant that she truly did love him. He wasn't sure if it had been him or the original that she'd loved but this proved that she at least cared about him, about the human him and not just the Time Lord him. Then again, he shouldn't have doubted her, it was Rose after all. Rose was a magnificent human, simply amazing. And until he died, she was his, she belonged to the Duplicate.

It was just such a pity that time passed by so fast. It shouldn't have, with how weak he was getting, but he'd been unable to finish all the preparations on his own so he dedicated the last of his time to showing her the ropes and eventually, as he could no longer lift even a screwdriver on his own, instructing her on every little detail necessary for it to work properly. For her method of travel to work.

It was like the dimension cannon but at the same time not at all. Because what she would be doing was not travel through dimensions but simply through time. It was an idea he'd gotten a while ago but hadn't thought to try and figure out properly until they realized she would be all alone soon, that they would pass on and she would be on her own. All alone. And he couldn't bare the thought of it, refused to leave her to that fate.

So John had plotted and now she knew what he'd been thinking of the nights he'd not immediately answered her, the nights he'd returned home late and the nights he'd spent all day away. He'd been finding her a way home, home to her actual dimension. Through the travel of time. Because if she went back to just a bit before the rift had closed, she could return. Before her past self got stuck there the first time. She could go through the rift before it got critical, before that had become a problem. And if she missed her chance then, she could grab onto one of the others the next time.

Why no one had ever thought of it before, she didn't know. Perhaps it had been dismissed as silly only because it could mess with her timeline, but she knew better than to run into herself, had listened to the human Doctor when he'd warned her, remembered the monsters that had appeared the last time she'd messed with her own timeline. She was going to keep away until the past her was gone completely from that dimension. Even if it meant staying away all those years, even if she landed there ages before it. She would be careful, she had promised that to her husband.

It took them a year to finish the time travelling device, a necklace made especially for her, but she didn't use it. Not yet. John was still there, was still alive, and if she'd waited twenty-six years, she could wait a little while longer to go. It wasn't like she'd change any, after all. She could wait.

Nine months passed until he was at his weakest, and after that, he only fought to get as much time with Rose as he could, tried to live on, but another month passed and one morning he simply didn't wake up.

Pete was the one she called, good old, very old, Pete Tyler. Her father who wasn't really her father. He'd expected this call sooner or later, had understood what it meant. Because Rose could still not be seen in public, could not be connected with John or Pete or anyone else. She couldn't be responsible for his funeral in the public eye, which meant Pete would have to do it. He understood and when the burial was over and she stood in front of his grave, all alone, she was glad for it.

Rose didn't think she would have been able to handle it, handle this pain, if she had needed to make the arrangements as well. They'd called her strong but now she only felt weak. Weak and alone.

Leaning down, she caressed the words written into the stone, the last words she'd ever be able to give her husband. They shared a gravestone yet she could not share a grave with him. He would rest in the Earth alone, but he would always have her with him. In those words. And as she left the graveyard, she whispered to herself those exact words, "It's never goodbye with us."


End file.
